


Sunbeams In My Hands

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clothed Sex, Come Swapping, Comeplay, Daddy Kink, M/M, Married Sastiel, Public Sex, Rimming, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Castiel Winchester live, laugh, love, and hurt - but it's always together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunbeams In My Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is the result of a bunch of sloppy drabbles from Tumblr ) along with a lot of poking and prodding and mutual crysturbating with Janis (ohhellcastiel) via Skype because we like to ruin each other with Sastiel AUs. All the same, I pulled some of them into a fic and decided to let the world have a look, seeing as how I've gotten so much pleasure from writing and thinking about it.
> 
> Also because pretty husbands who have a lot of hot sex.

 It’s warm outside when Sam leaves the office, the sun not quite dipped below the horizon yet but Sam knows it’s been at least ten hours since he set foot in the law firm that morning, that of Winchester and LaFitte, Benny having already bowed out for the night, Sam insisting he go on home while he finished up a couple of documents for notarizing the next morning.  He smiles as he loosens his tie and locks the door, in a good mood from knowing he worked hard that day and closed a claims case in court that morning, having helped elderly Mrs. Harvelle get back her land from the county’s new zoning laws.  The smile on her face after they’d left the courthouse was more than worth it, Sam giving her a hug and telling her if there was anything he could ever do for her, he’d be glad to do so.

            Starting up his car he sits back for a moment, rolling down the windows and letting it air out for a moment, the stuffy heat dissipating as he backs out of his space and wheels his Lexus out onto the road, the radio turned down and set on the local NPR station, listening to the news and considering his next move.  Not a mile down the road he sees it, open another half hour and only one car in the lot.

            Milligan’s Flowers has been in the town of Red Rock, Maryland as long as anyone can remember, Red Rock itself located forty-five minutes west of Baltimore but anyone visiting wouldn’t know it, retaining a certain smallish town feel that Sam had come to love ever since settling here a decade before, twenty five and fresh out of law school, having been recommended by one of his professors for the position.  He’s never once looked back, perfectly happy right here with his husband, Dr. Castiel Winchester.

            _Cas._

            They’d met eight years ago, Cas having come from one of the hospitals in Baltimore, tired of trying to balance out the stress of living in a large city and being an up and coming heart surgeon at the same time, having seen the job opportunity in Red Rock and taking it immediately.  He and Sam had met entirely by chance, one day in the town’s used bookstore and both reaching for the one remaining copy of The Pillars of The Earth – the spark had been immediate and before they knew it they were dating, married a year and a half later.  Sam isn’t the spontaneous sort of person but with Castiel… it had simply felt right and hadn’t stopped feeling that since.  He walks into the florist’s shop, the bell above the door tingling musically as he pauses, looking around at the flowers, their scents mingling into a phantasmagoria that muddles Sam’s picking which ones he wants – there’s always a wide range of choice here and Sam’s stopped by plenty of times.

            “Need help finding something Sam?”  Adam, the owner’s son, comes out from the back, setting down a bundle of daisies and coming from around the counter, shaking Sam’s hand before taking a step back.

            Sam smiles and turns his focus back to the flowers.  “Well, it’s Cas’s five hundredth shift on call and I kind of wanted to do something special since he works so hard, y’know?”  Sam bends down to look at some chrysanthemums, sucking on his bottom lip as he inspects them.

            Adam considers Sam’s words, thinking for a moment.  “I think I may have just the thing.”  Adam disappears into the back of the shop, leaving Sam to look around by himself, thinking about Cas. It’s his second of three nights on call, Sam already missing him terribly.  Sure he has his dog, Gracie and Castiel’s cat Rufus for company but they aren’t his husband, no matter the fact that Gracie’s a very, very good snuggler and Rufus keeps him company when he works.  He smiles to himself, turning when he hears Adam come back with a beautiful bouquet of purple hyacinths and yellow daffodils, Sam’s jaw dropping because they really do look lovely – Adam always knows exactly what to pick.

            “How about these?”  Adam presents them with a bit of a flourish, Sam’s face lighting up as he reaches for them, holding them to his nose and inhaling their gentle scent.  Already he knows these are the ones he’s going to present to Castiel and five minutes later he’s in his car heading towards Red Rock Memorial Medical Center, leaving his jacket in the car, sleeves rolled up as he strides through the hospital’s visitor entrance, earning himself a few long glances from a couple ladies in the waiting room.  The receptionist smiles at him, knowing Sam by site, heading towards the elevator at the end of the hallway.

            He’s accompanied by one of the nurses that works on Cas’s floor, Kali.  She looks sleepy, looking over at Sam and the contents of his hands.  “He’ll love those, you know.  Especially since he’s just got out of surgery.”

            Sam smiles and tucks his hair behind his ears.  “I hope so.  It’s his 500th shift on call, figured I’d do something special for him.”

            “You really keep track of it?”  Kali straightens the sheaf of paperwork clutched in her hands, tilting her head up to look Sam in the eye.

            “Sure.  He deserves recognition for sticking with it, even if it is just from me.”

            Kali smiles, stepping through the elevator’s open doors.  “In that case, I’ll go and get him for you.”  Kali walks away, leaving Sam near the waiting room at the end of the hallway, pacing a little as he waits.  He knows Cas is busy but he has to see him, even if it is for just a few minutes.  He’s looking out the window down at the parking lot, rather high up from the sixth floor when he hears someone come up behind him.

            “Kali said I had a visitor and I was wondering – are you him?”  Sam turns, already beaming as he presents Castiel with the flowers.

            “Don’t see anyone else asking for you, so I suppose it’s me.”  Sam takes a moment to look at his husband, white coat on over light green scrubs, two days of scruff on his cheeks and his rimless slimline glasses perched on his nose, Cas reaching up to take them off before he takes the flowers and steps forward, his other hand snaking around Sam’s waist and smiling up at him.

            “May I ask the occasion?”  Cas kisses Sam’s chin, Sam’s hands inside his coat and settled on his hips, his husband smelling of flowers and the leather of his office furniture.

            “500 shifts on call Cas.  Not too bad if you ask me.”  Sam leans down to kiss Cas on the lips, reminding himself to keep it chaste, wanting so badly to dip in his tongue and taste him, if only for a brief moment.

            “You’re better at keeping track then I am anyway.”  Cas laughs briefly, moving that much closer because it’s warm here, wrapped in Sam’s arms, a beautiful, welcome contrast to the chill of the hospital.

            “Purely for the sake of bringing you flowers babe.”  Sam kisses Cas again, this time gently cupping Cas’s cheek and letting his fingers touch at the edge of his hair, soft and inviting, Sam wanting to run his fingers through it forever right there.

            “And they’re appreciated Sam, very, very much.”  Cas’s eyes are closed, nuzzling Sam’s neck for a moment before stepping back and holding his hand at arm’s length.  “I have to go Sam.  I’ll see you at home soon, alright?”

            Sam gives him one more kiss, gently twirling Cas’s wedding ring before he lets go.  “I’ll keep the bed warm for you.  Well… Gracie will.”

            Cas’s smile and laugh melt Sam’s heart, kissing Sam’s hand and saying “I love you” before letting go, not taking his eyes off of Sam as he lets his fingers go, Sam saying “I love you too” as he watches his husband head back to work, the ghost of his lips still palpable against his own as he steps onto the elevator, sighing as he leans back, missing Cas already.

            The drive home doesn’t take too long, Sam riding with the windows down seeing as how it’s such a lovely night, the last rays of pink and orange peeking over the horizon, Sam’s hands where they’re resting on the steering wheel bathed in that soft light, waving to people he knows with a beckon of two fingers.  He pulls into the driveway of he and Cas’s modest two story house, white vinyl siding with a brick chimney to the left, themselves having remodeled it and made it into a beautiful home after buying it six years ago.

            Sam hears scratching from the other side of the door, accompanied by happy barks and underneath them meows, Sam grinning widely as he opens the wooden door and bends down, setting aside his jacket and briefcase as he’s greeted by Gracie and Rufus, Gracie’s body wiggling in sync with her rapidly wagging tail, Rufus pawing at his leg and bumping his head against Sam’s thigh.  Any melancholy at not being able to see Cas for a little while longer evaporates immediately, Gracie’s enthusiastic if slightly wet kisses to his cheeks helping to take it away. 

            “Can’t be sad if I come home to this every night, now can I?”  Sam rises from the floor, his furry companions following him into his study, Sam hanging his jacket over the back of his chair and slipping his shoes off, taking them and setting them down next to his desk.  Walking into the kitchen he’s accompanied by the click-click-click of Gracie’s toenails across the tile floor, pouring himself a glass of milk and taking it upstairs, Gracie close behind.

            Before he can make dinner he’s got to walk Gracie, changing out of his dress shirt and slacks, Gracie waiting patiently at the foot of he and Cas’s bed, Rufus on top of it and sitting on Cas’s pillow, eyes half closed.  Sam shakes his head, stripped down to his boxers, digging around in his dresser for a t-shirt and gym shorts.  Dressed and ready, he grabs Gracie’s leash from downstairs, locking the house back up, Gracie trotting by his side as they walk, images of Castiel floating through his mind as he enjoys the now slightly cooler spring night.

.  .  .

            By the time Cas comes home early the morning a couple days after, he looks exhausted.  Sam’s in the kitchen making himself some scrambled eggs for breakfast, ravenous after his six mile run that morning, already dressed in his crisply pressed navy blue suit, cheeks freshly shaven.  He knows Cas has returned thanks to the sudden, slightly uncoordinated thumping of Gracie’s paws as she rockets around the corner from the living room and right to the front door, Rufus right behind her.  Sam turns off the burner and wipes his hands, smiling as Cas enters the kitchen, his arms already outstretched towards his husband, Cas halfway running the last couple steps and glomping himself to Sam, Sam rocking them gently and burying his nose in Cas’s hair, kissing what he can and squeezing him tight.

            “Care for some breakfast?” Sam says into those dark locks, Cas moving away just far enough to look up at him in the eye.

            “After this.”  Cas’s hands slide into Sam’s hair, pulling him down and suddenly Cas’s tongue is in his mouth, seeking and slightly desperate, Sam whimpering softly because he’s missed it just as much, that sweet, clean taste of his husband’s mouth, walking them backwards until he’s leaning against the counter.  Cas only pulls away when he runs out of breath, fingers gentle as they rub Sam’s cheeks, dimples out in full force from smiling so hard.

            “Better now?” Sam squeezes Cas’s sides, thumbs running over his ribcage.

            “For the time being anyway.  Now what was it you said about breakfast?”  As much as Cas would love to keep playing tonsil hockey with Sam he’s both hungry and tired, along with the fact that Sam has to leave for work in a little bit.

            “That I made scrambled eggs and cut up fresh strawberries because I knew you’d need a pick me up when you got home.”  Sam kisses Cas’s forehead as he gestures for Cas to sit down at the bar, getting out two plates and piling them high with food, bringing Cas a glass of milk along with it.

            “Have I ever told you you’re the most thoughtful man I’ve ever met?”  Cas gives Sam another kiss before digging in, Sam settling next to him with a steaming mug of coffee.  The strong brew warms Sam’s bones just as much as the closeness of his husband does, his socked foot nudging at Cas’s, sitting as close as they can without actually impeding each other’s eating. 

            Sam swallows the food in his mouth and leans over to kiss Cas’s scruff covered cheek.  “A few times, yeah.  Not that I don’t like hearing it more than once.”  Sam says it teasingly, giving Cas another kiss before turning back to his breakfast.

            Cas leans his head over and rests it on Sam’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. “Well keep being thoughtful and I’ll keep saying it. Such a shame you have to go uphold the law.  Too bad you can’t stay here and keep me warm while I catch up on rest.”

            Sam kisses the top of Cas’s head and puts his arm around his shoulders.  “I don’t have that much to do today actually so I might be able to leave at a reasonable hour.  The Harvelle case finished up yesterday and I have a couple consultations this afternoon but aside from that just normal stuff.  Well… as normal as it can be I suppose.” 

            Cas sighs, moving from Sam’s body and yawning.  “Well don’t stay out too late because I might pine for you.”

            Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head.  “Cat people.” 

            “You love them and you know it.”  As if on cue, Rufus paws at Sam’s leg, Sam reaching down and rubbing his head before getting up, taking he and Cas’s cleared dished to the sink.

            “More than I can say babe.  Now go get some sleep and when I get home we’ll have a night in, alright?”  Sam slips his arms around Cas’s body and kisses his neck, feeling just how badly his husband needs rest.  Cas nods, turning his head for one more, long kiss before sliding out of Sam’s embrace, whistling for Gracie to follow as he heads for the stairs, blowing a kiss at Sam before ascending.

            Sam goes to work with a smile on his face that doesn’t fade all morning.

.  .  .

            Sam likes the time in between cases, gives him a moment to breathe and refocus.  Mrs. Harvelle had called him again earlier and thanked him for his hard work on her behalf, leaving Sam feeling more than a little giddy. He loves the work he does, and helping people reclaim what is rightfully theirs leaves him feeling accomplished. 

            He’s in the middle of filing away the documents for the last case when he hears his phone chime, picking it up off his desk and swiping the screen.  It’s a message from Castiel.  Sam smiles as he opens up his messages and reads it.

            _How’s your day?_

Not terrible, Sam responds.  Just finishing up some paper work.  Sam checks his watch – it’s a little after two, which mean Castiel’s been asleep for a little over six hours.

            It takes a minute for Castiel to respond.  _Good to hear.  Are you alone right now?_

Sam’s eyebrows raise, wondering what exactly Cas has in mind.  His secretary is on lunch and no one is waiting to see him, so he figures he’s as alone as he can get at the moment.  Yeah, he responds.  Why do you ask?”

            Sam receives his answer a few moments later, a media message pending.  It’s a picture of Castiel, eyes still half-hooded with sleep, the tops of his bare shoulders just in the frame, mouth curled in a smile.  It’s captioned _because I wanted to show you a few things._

Sam’s more than interested now, going over and closing the door to his office, loosening his tie and settling down in his chair, the leather squeaking as he leans back.  You’re gorgeous, you know that don’t you, is his reply, resisting the temptation to kiss the screen, reaching up and running his hand through his hair as he swivels from side to side.

            Another picture a moment later.  It’s a picture of Gracie and Rufus snuggled together at the foot of their bed, Rufus tucked up against Gracie’s belly.  _Wish it was us Sam.  I miss you._

            Sam’s grin turns goofy, his heart skipping a couple beats as he taps out his reply.  Soon Cas, I promise.  Want to hold you all night. That okay?

            _It sounds incredible Sam.  But I want something else too._

Sam bites and sucks on his bottom lip as he sends back his answer.  What would that be?

            Another picture.  This time of Cas’s lips, his tongue swiping the bottom one.  Sam’s mouth falls open, his breath coming in a slight pant. 

            _I woke up leaking Sam.  Had to taste myself, had to pretend it was you._ Before Sam can reply there’s another picture, this time of Cas’s cock, a thick, silvery line of precome dripping from the tip, over the pink head and down the bunch of his foreskin right underneath, Cas’s fingers wrapped around himself.  In it he can also see Cas’s navel piercing, a quietly brilliant glint as the sunbeams creep across Cas’s lean, lightly defined belly.

            Sam stifles a moan, messaging back his husband as coherently as possible.  You’re a fucking tease and you know it, he says.

            The next picture is Cas on his belly, camera angled over his shoulder so that Sam can see the wing tattoos that stretch down his back, the longest feathers curling around to his ribcage.  Castiel has his ass pushed up in the air, looking even more plump from the way Cas has his hips bent upwards.  _A tease only for you._

            Sam has to cover his mouth to keep from swearing loudly, knowing Benny’s still in the office, nothing but a wall separating their respective spaces.  Sam unzips his slacks, plunging his hand past the fly of his boxers and drawing his cock out, not made any easier by the fact that he’s rock hard and leaking, careful as he takes himself in hand and strokes upwards, foreskin bunching in between his fingers. He almost considers sending a video to Cas but he can’t risk taking the time. Instead he works out some precome, makes a strand with it from the head to his fingers, snapping a picture captioned “it’s working, just so you know.”

            He doesn’t hear back from Cas for a few minutes, trying to not think about what his husband might be doing at that moment in time because he’s already throbbing hard, barely able to touch himself, afraid if he goes any further he’s going to have a mess on his hands and likely everything else.  He’s hesitant to open the next picture message but he does it anyway, nearly dropping the phone when he sees that it’s Castiel’s ass, three fingers stretching his pretty pink hole, shiny with lube. 

            _I believe that belongs in here, Sam.  And don’t you dare touch yourself.  I have a surprise for you when you get home._

It takes every bit of Sam’s willpower to fight down his orgasm after seeing that but he manages, calls up every mood killing image he has and closes his eyes, shooting back to Cas “You’re going to be the death of me.”

            _I know_ rattles around Sam’s brain for the rest of his day, mind moving back and forth from his work to the plump curve of his husband’s ass and causing him no small amount of frustration in the process.

.  .  .

            Castiel is awfully pleased with how he looks, having taken a long bath after he’d teased Sam, made himself clean in every way he could, even shaved his backside and hole – not that Sam minds the hair but it works a lot better for what he has in mind.  He opens the bottom drawer of his dresser, getting out a small bag and carrying it to the bathroom, steam still fogging the mirror from earlier.  Rufus sits on the top of the toilet as Cas shaves, wanting to be smooth before he begins his work.

            Wiping off his razor and setting it aside, he opens the beige bag and selects some eye shadow – it’s dark blue, the same color as his eyes that Sam once told him sparkle like sapphires.  He doesn’t use much, just enough to make his pupils shine and pop.  He’s gotten good at this, making himself up for Sam.  He doesn’t do it often, only when the mood feels just right.  It had taken a long time to draw it out of his husband, this kink for makeup and as Sam put it, “making himself pretty.”  Of all the things Sam Winchester’s vocal about, what he wants in bed isn’t one of them because he’s shy as hell about it and Cas thinks it’s adorable.

            That and the flowers Sam brought him the other night really, really helped.

            Next he puts on waterproof eyeliner, simple black that matches the dark locks on top of his head.  He decides against wings, keeping it to a minimum – he’s not going to overdo it, there’s no need.  Of course there’s mascara as well, because he likes the way Sam squirms when he feels Cas’s eyelashes flutter against his skin.  He makes sure to plump them up well, careful as he goes, not wanting it to clump.  It too is waterproof, as sex tends to be very messy between them.  It’s not that they try, to make it so, it’s simply how it is.  Next a little foundation and blush, just a light dusting that keeps that fresh out of the shower glow to his face.  Satisfied with his work he steps back, pleased with the contrast it makes to his unshaved cock and balls, dark hair that perhaps needs a trim soon but right now it’s perfectly fine as it is. 

            Next he puts his piercings back in, both nipples and the navel, trying to not become too aroused due to the heightened sensitivity. Nonetheless his cock fills slightly as he slides the silver bars through his nipples, trying to fight back the image of Sam touching him there, pulling and squeezing at the over-sensitive flesh.  He adjusts them so that they’re better centered, giving them one good look in the mirror before stepping out into their bedroom.

            He had to wait for Sam to go to work before he brought it in but it was worth it, this sneaky purchase he made on break one day at the hospital.  It’s a plaid skirt, classic Catholic schoolgirl style – he’s seen Sam drool over it at the sex shop before, looking at it and then back at Cas, trying to figure out what he’d look like in it but he’s never asked, nor has Cas offered to try because he knows that if he had he’d never have gotten Sam to fess up to actually wanting to see Cas in it.  So Cas had gone over his stubborn, communicative about literally anything else except kinky sex husband’s head and bought it himself, feeling mighty pleased with himself when he’d tried it on.  He’d almost sent Sam a picture then but if he had he’s sure he’d have given him a coronary.  Hell he’s honestly surprised Sam had played back that morning when he’d sent off the dirty pictures.  Smiling and shaking his head, he pulls the skirt on, appreciating the way it hugs his hips, coming up just above his pubic hair and just long enough to where Sam can’t see his junk from the front.

            Inspecting himself in the closet mirror, he twirls once to make sure the effect is just right – it is, lifting up the back to look at his ass, shaking it once and considering taking pictures in it later just to fluster Sam.  The contrast of the skirt and wing tattoos is what Castiel would call almost artistic, save for the fact he knows that this is all about seducing his hardworking husband.  The final touch is one of Sam’s ties, this iridescent green-gray affair that makes Sam’s eyes sparkle.  He ties it loosely around his neck, shivering with the touch of pure silk against his bare skin.  He’s pleased with how he looks, pretty close if not dead-on to what Sam’s mostly untold fantasy (or fantasies) are.  He puts Rufus and Gracie in the back yard, not wanting to be disturbed by a curious nose or paw (it’s happened more than once before and wet collie-shepherd tongue tickling a foot is a very good libido killer.)  Glancing at the time on the kitchen stove he heads back upstairs, perching himself on the edge of their bed, hearing the crunch of Sam’s tires against the drive way.

            Sam’s feet sound heavy as they walk to the study where his briefcase is dropped, Cas hoping that he’s not gone to all of this effort only for Sam to come home tired.  Soon enough he hears him coming up the stairs “Cas?” sounding out as he gets about midway, “In here” answering him back and when Sam sees Castiel sitting cross legged Cas almost wishes he had his phone to take a picture of Sam’s expression upon entering the door.

            Taking advantage of the half-flabbergasted, half-aroused silence currently screaming from his husband’s mouth Cas gets up and saunters towards him, switching his hips like he’s the top rent boy in the country, one index finger extended as he circles Sam and talks.  “Heard there was a big shot lawyer coming here.  Bet he needs a little relaxation to take his mind off all that hard work.”  Cas’s fingers trail across Sam’s stomach, butterfly light kisses planted across Sam’s shoulders as he circles back around to face him.

            “Y…yeah.”  Sam swallows, hot under the collar because not only his is his fucking gorgeous husband wearing a skirt and make up but he’s also roleplaying with it.  Sam finds his words quickly, making his voice as steady as he can as he speaks.  “Don’t remember ordering a boy though.”  Sam’s hands act as though they’re on a track that only extends out two inches from his body, unsure if he can touch, unsure if he wants to because it’s just enough to make him feel like his own husband is a complete stranger.

            Cas solves the problem for him, taking both of Sam’s hands and placing them on his slender hips, Sam swallowing again before opening his mouth, given away by his own throbbing erection against Cas’s thigh as Cas steps in close and brings Sam’s head down, feeling more than hearing Cas whisper “it’s okay Daddy, I’m not gonna break on you.”

            It’s like those are the magic words that Sam needs to hear because his hesitance evaporates before the last word is out of Cas’s mouth, suddenly finding himself airborne as Sam lifts him, legs instinctively going around Sam’s waist as he’s transported to the bed, Sam coming crashing down on top of him.  Cas nearly has the wind knocked out of him but Sam’s as gentle as he can be in the heat of the moment, biting into Cas’s mouth as his hands touch every bit of skin he can, traveling up from under his thighs and over the front of his skirt, fingers dancing along his hipbones and ribcage before coming to settle on his chest, Sam’s lips pulling away as he touches Cas’s nipples, a moment later pinching and rolling them, metal smooth between the pads of his fingers, playing Cas’s body like a virtuoso seated at his Steinway, knowing exactly the notes and pitches he wants to hear.

            Indeed it is music to his ears as he applies his sweet torture, grinning lewdly as he says “tell Daddy what you want.”  The words coming from his own mouth make Sam’s heart pound faster, blood going from merely rumbling to thundering in his ears but it turns him on even more, dick straining against his suit pants so hard that he’s convinced they’ll burst.  He kisses and bites along Cas’s jaw, sucking a bruise right at the hinge that makes Cas’s back arch prettier than any porn Sam’s ever seen.  Cas moans in response, trying to form words but it’s also been more than three days since he’s had Sam’s hands and mouth on him like this and it’s more than a little difficult to focus on staying in character.

            “Need… no… want…. Daddy I want you to open me for you.  Please, please Daddy, will you do that?” Cas moans as Sam’s hips grind against him, making his by this point achingly hard cock rub against the material of his skirt.

            Sam chuckles, this rich, throaty, rumbling sound that makes Cas whimper high in his throat, the vibrations seeping into his bones and shooting right up his spine.  “Good boys get what they want when they say please.”  Sam gives Cas a filthy wet kiss, sucking on his tongue for a long moment purely so Cas will squirm all the more – Cas has always had a thing for that, Sam using his strength and size to literally take the arousal from his body.  Sam stands, taking off his jacket, noticing a big wet spot on the front left pocket where Cas’s dick had leaked against him.  He runs a finger over it, getting just enough of it that hasn’t soaked into the material on his finger, bringing it to his lips and sucking it clean, Cas watching him, cock sticking out up from under the skirt, pulsing with his heartbeat and yeah, Cas looks like the rent boy of the year like this, make-up all smudged and his skirt rucked up, looking up at Sam with this mixture of intense desire and awe.

            “So handsome Daddy.”  Cas smiles, spreading his legs a little wider so that Sam can get a good look at what he has under the skirt.

            “Want it bad don’t you, boy?”  Sam finishes unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off and casting it to the floor before moving to his belt.

            “Can I do that Daddy? Please?  Can I make your cock wet for my boy hole first?”  Castiel is so fucking eager and sweet about asking that Sam has to shut his eyes for a moment, scooting forward to the edge of the mattress, not daring raise his hands until Sam gives him permission to do so.

            Sam stops, leaving his belt buckled, smiling down at Cas and trying hard to not break character.  “You may.”  Cas is all scrabbling hands and dark azure eyes as he pulls Sam towards him, looking up at his husband as he mouths along the outline of his cock, hands unbuckling and unlooping his belt before dropping it to the floor, moving to kiss Sam’s stomach in a such a way that Sam can only really call worshipful.  Cas takes Sam’s pants all the way down to the floor, pulling his socks off as well before he tugs his boxers off, careful of Sam’s dick as it pulls up out of the waistband, smacking against his stomach with a delightfully lewd thunk. 

            Cas’s mouth is watering before he even touches it and Sam _loves_ it, loves to see Castiel so eager to taste his body.  “Love how big you are Daddy.”  The words are breathed hot as a brand against Sam’s hip, made doubly impactful by the way Cas’s hand grips the base of Sam’s cock and pulls forward, watching the precome drool and smear as the foreskin slides forward and then back, Sam shuddering and putting one hand on the back of Cas’s head, needing something to stabilize himself because all of this still feels more than a little bit surreal.

            “So pretty like this boy.”  Sam smooths his hand appreciatively through Cas’s hair, noticing that Cas still has his wedding ring on, letting him know that this is still is husband and somehow it just makes it all the better, more real.  Swiping his thumb over Cas’s cheek, he asks low and quiet  “Gonna suck Daddy’s cock now?”

            Cas nods, kissing Sam’s hip before moving himself so that his cock is level with his lips.  “Yes, Daddy. Gonna make it nice and wet for me.”  Cas puts the hand not around Sam’s cock on the back of his left thigh, rubbing the long cords of muscle there as he sucks the head into his mouth, looking up at Sam and showing off his eyeliner and shadow, mascara covered lashes fluttering prettily as he blinks, Sam mouthing “fuck” as he watches, Cas’s head starting to bob slowly in sync with his hand.  Precome floods his tongue, tasting sweetish from the fruit salad Sam ate for lunch.  He smiles as well as he can with his lips stretched around Sam’s fucking thick girth, jaw loosened as every time he goes back down so he can take even more of Sam in.  Sam’s just a touch under nine inches but Cas learned long ago how to handle him, at this point in their marriage a champ at giving Sam the best fucking head he can, proud of himself as he pulls all the way back and then goes all the way down, eyes closing as his forehead bumps against Sam’s stomach.

            Sam’s breath steals away, mouth open and his hair falling forward as he watches Cas deep throat him, holding himself there and lifting Sam’s hand to feel the bulge of his dick down his throat, Sam swearing he can trace the outline of his glans near his husband’s Adam’s apple – it’s filthy hot, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from blowing right there and then, seeing a tear leak from the corner of Cas’s eye before he pulls of, lips sticky with spit and precome, not going all the way, just enough to catch his breath before working Sam’s cock some more, opening his eyes again, seeing love and devotion mixed with the desire.  It touches Sam’s heart, warming him more than the sight of Cas in nothing but a skirt ever could.

            Cas sits back after another few minutes, biting his wet bottom lip as he keeps a slow but firm rhythm on Sam’s dick with his left hand.  “Want to taste yourself Daddy?”  Sam’s answer is to pull Cas up by his tie, hand cupping the back of his head as he licks Cas’s lips and mouth clean, his other hand going down the back of Cas’s skirt and rubbing down the cleft of his ass, two fingers rubbing the tight pucker of Cas’s hole.

            “It’s Daddy’s turn now.”  With a growl Sam situates Cas on the bed, putting him on all fours and pushing the skirt forward, hands kneading the firm muscle of Cas’s ass, smacking it hard twice with both hands, making Cas bend down and forward even more.  “So fucking pretty.”  Sam’s thumb of his left hand presses against Cas’s hole, rubbing for a moment before bending down and pulling back on Cas’s hips.  Castiel goes willingly, cock and balls hanging thick and heavy between his legs, precome drooling onto the sheets, foreskin pulled back and Sam can’t help but licking the salty slick from the head, tongue stuck out as he moves up the underside of Cas’s cock and over his balls, all the way to the top of his ass, making Cas shiver in the process.  He goes twice as slow back down to Cas’s hole, noticing that Cas has shaved, the bright pink skin a tempting bud waiting to be opened.

            Fingers firmly dug into the sides of Cas’s hips Sam sets to licking Cas open, little kitten licks at first that only serve to make Castiel want it all the more.  He doesn’t say anything, simply moans and pants, thighs quivering with the way Sam’s sharp stubble scrapes against his skin.

            “How bad do you want it boy?”  Sam’s voice is a growl that makes Cas answer immediately.

            “Bad Daddy, so fucking bad.”  Cas’s fingers tear and claw at the sheets under his hands as Sam gives him a little more but it’s still not enough.

            “Doesn’t sound like it.”  Sam blows warm and then cold air across Cas’s hole, perfectly content to wait.

            “Daddy, please.  Have to be open and wet for you so I can take your big fucking dick.  Please? Please do that for me?” Cas is so keyed up that it hurts, body screaming for Sam to give him what he wants.

            “That’s better.”  Sam doesn’t give much ground though, tracing the tip of his tongue around the edge of Cas’s hole before going over and then up and down, making a cross that causes Cas to bite down on the blanket underneath him.  It’s much of a muchness but Cas is more than happy for it, knowing that Sam isn’t going to be able to hold out much longer, having nearly made him come in his mouth.  Sam repeats the motion a few more times, the moans spilling from Cas’s lips unbid, loud and noisy enough that Sam’s almost concerned the neighbors might hear.  Of course, he doesn’t much care, deciding to give Cas a little more, fingers gripping his flesh all the tighter as he uses the broad part of his tongue, spit starting to run down his chin.

            The scrape of Sam’s stubble makes Cas’s toes curl in on themselves, back muscles flexing so that it makes it looks like his wings are actually extended up and away from his body, not just tattooed on his skin.  “So… so good Daddy” is all Cas can manage, Sam licking into him deeper and feeling the muscle unfurl even more, sweet pink flesh exposed and Sam’s like a man drinking from an oasis in the desert, finally letting go and eating Cas out sloppy wet, working up a flood of spit so that Cas feels as much as hears him, growling into his body until Cas is drawn taught as an arrow waiting to be released, pressing back into Sam’s face every time he feels tongue make his body sing.

            “Ready for me now boy?”  The words make Castiel snap out of his daze, not realizing how much he’s sweating and Sam turns him over on his back, moving up the bed and keeping his arms braced against either side of Cas’s head, hair dangling forward, barely an inch from Cas’s skin, his cock catching on the fabric of the skirt.  Sam dips his head and mouths a couple kisses at Cas’s jaw, these pure self-indulgence because he wants to taste all of his husband that he can.

            “Yes, Daddy _please_.”  Cas sounds like a fucking wreck and Sam hasn’t even fucked him yet, smiling as he reaches for the lube Cas had the foresight to put on the bed.  With a sweet kiss that’s pure Sam he reaches for it and flips the cap open, wetting his fingers and moving them down in between Cas’s spread legs, Cas shivering with the touch of cold lube against his hot skin.  Sam works it into him slowly, two fingers sliding in without much resistance.

            “That feel good baby?”  Sam has to ask, has to drop the character for just a moment to make sure Castiel is comfortable because it’s intense, all of what they’re doing, more intense than it’s gotten between them in a while. 

            Cas’s answer is to try and fuck himself on Sam’s fingers, Sam chuckling again as he applies a little more lube and eases in a third finger, Cas crying out and gripping Sam’s shoulders, Sam dropping his head to Cas’s chest and sucking on his left nipple for a moment, hardened bud hyper sensitized by his piercing, feeling Cas’s dick blurt even more precome against his belly. Sam coordinates the motion of his fingers against Cas’s prostate with his tongue and lips, teasing Cas so exquisitely Cas has to tell him to back off, pushes at him because it’s an overload and he doesn’t want to come yet, wants Sam’s cock inside him when that happens.

            “Daddy… Daddy please, fuck me now.”  Sam’s quick to oblige, taking away his hand and grabbing the lube, applying it to his cock and daring not spend too much time working it in because he’s got orgasm on the horizon, knowing Cas isn’t far off, given the way he turns his head and shuts his eyes as Sam enters him, his fingernails leaving red indentions in Sam’s bulging biceps.  Sam just pushes through until he’s all the way in, Cas’s whole body arching like he’s on a string. Sam’s got him though, leaning down and kissing Cas as they adjust to each other.  It’s not the hundredth or even thousandth time they’ve had sex but every time it’s still akin to creating something beautiful, something that they are the only witnesses to and it’s extraordinarily special.

            “Ready?”  Cas nods once in response, Sam’s hips starting to move, short, shallow thrusts that give Cas a little more opportunity to adjust and open up, Sam reaching for Cas’s hands and pressing them down palm to palm, wedding rings digging into each other’s skin.

            “Does Daddy’s cock feel good inside you?”  Sam’s words are hot like coals against Cas’s lips, each one punctuated with a thrust that’s slightly harder than the last, causing Cas’s response to be lost in between high-pitched moans.

            “So good, so fucking good Sam.”  Hearing his own name as opposed to their little game makes Sam haul Cas up by his tie, his movements becoming desperate, kissing his husband hard as he gets a hand between them, the skirt bunched high up on Cas’s waist as Sam strokes him hard and rough – they know the end is near and now it’s a race, Sam fucking Cas deep and fast, Cas’s body filled white hot with every flick of Sam’s hips, faster, faster, faster until Cas bites Sam’s bottom lip so hard he draws blood, the next thing being complete and total immersion in pleasure as he shoots high and wide, come exploding from between them before soaking the underside of Sam’s throat and their bodies, making a mess of the sweaty, crimson flushed skin of their torsos.  Sam follows the moment he feels Cas contract and squeeze around him, slamming his hips with one, two, three hard smacks of finality, driving in deep and screaming into his husband’s mouth with each pulse of his body.

            They stay frozen like that for a long time afterward, holding each other because it feels like they’re going to fly apart with the slightest movement.  Sam finally eases Cas down to the bed, pulling out of him and biting his bleeding lip when the over sensitized head of his cock catches against the rim of Cas’s puffy, fucked out hole, pulling out with it a lot of come.  Sam can’t help himself, gets down between Cas’s legs and licks the mess right up, tongue working Cas’s overstressed body, Cas not anywhere able to form coherent words, instead tense, quiet little moans that are torn from the shattered remnants of his voice. Sam’s tongue traces a path through the mess on Cas’s stomach, stopping to swirl in his navel, tongue flicking at his silvery piercing, then long and lazy up the rest of his body until he’s back up to his husband’s mouth and Cas is only to eager to partake of the taste of their bodies mixed together, tongue plunging in and out of Sam’s parted, come-sticky lips until he’s had his fill, finally pulling away and laying flat, Sam coming down hard next to him and burying his face in the blankets next to Cas’s shoulder, slinging one big arm over Cas’s body and not even caring as it slides through his husband’s jizz.

            “We… we can’t do this too often babe.”  Sam’s back now, all long, heavy with satiation limbs and a dopey smile in his voice.

            Cas manages to squeeze under Sam’s side so that they are somewhat face to face.  “How come?”  Cas kisses Sam’s cheek, bringing his right hand over the move the hair out of Sam’s eyes.

            “Because that... just too much.  Good, but yeah next time Cas just some rose petals leading up here will be okay.  I uh… I didn’t get too carried away, did I?”    

            Castiel laughs as much as his shattered voice will allow him.  “You did just fine Sam, I promise.  But you did enjoy it, right?”

            Sam finally moves to put both arms around his husband’s suddenly small feeling frame.  “Of course I did.  I always do babe, you know that.  But this was special.  I don’t want to ruin that so please, don’t feel like I didn’t.  Because I very much did.”  Sam rubs noses with Cas in an Eskimo kiss, a soft gesture that makes his heart flutter.

            “I promise I’ll get your tie dry cleaned.” 

            “Don’t worry about it.  More than worth seeing you in all of this.”  Sam gives Cas a proper kiss this time, unhurried where every other motion before had been searingly intense. They’re disturbed by barking at the back door, Gracie signifying that she’s ready to come in.

            “She can wait until we’re cleaned up can’t she?” Sam asks in a sleepy voice.

            “Of course.  She’ll have to have two treats though, for being patient.”

            Sam laughs as he scoops Cas up and walks them to the shower.  “I think we can allow that.”

            As it turns out, Gracie is more than grateful for the unexpected surprise.

.  .  .

            “I want to repaint the house” Cas says a couple weeks later, he and Sam seated at the kitchen and going through their bills, getting it done before they make dinner and settle down for the evening.

            Sam looks up from the check he’s writing out for the power company and fixes his husband with an inquisitive stare.  “May I ask what brought this on?”

            “Kali was talking about it yesterday at work, how she was planning on repainting her guest room for her kid that’s on the way.” 

            “Oh so she is pregnant? Good for her!”  Sam smiles, glad that Kali and her wife were finally able to find a donor. “What color, do you know?”

            “Something neutral, she hasn’t decided yet.  But it got me thinking – Sam we didn’t really repaint anything during the remodel, just touched up what was here to begin with. And I already have a couple ideas…”  Cas lets his voice trail off, looking like a child who’s just asked their parent for a raise in their allowance.

            Sam sits back, putting down his pen and taking off his reading glasses, chewing on one end as he looks at Cas, trying not to smile at how eager he looks.  “And what would those ideas be?”

            Cas’s face blossoms in a grin brighter than the rhododendrons in his garden.  “Reds, all over.”

            “All over?”  Sam’s eyebrows quirk up, his innate curiosity winning over skepticism at his dearly beloved’s idea.

            “From the kitchen to the guest bathroom.  Lighter colors downstairs, slightly darker upstairs.  Like sunset pink for our room, maybe ripe strawberry red for the kitchen, stuff like that.  But this house needs something other than plain white, Sam.  It’s boring.  And besides, you look good with your hair tied back and a tool in your hand.”  Cas winks at Sam, making Sam give a quick, barking laugh.

            “There it is – you just want to perv on me while I do all the work.”  Sam’s tone is teasing but he can’t help but agree with Cas – the house would look good done up in reds.

            “I promise to help, I do.  I’ll even pay for the paint and any remover for that which may end up in… odd places.”  Cas leans forward, socked foot rubbing up the inside of Sam’s left leg.

            Sam stares back, narrowing his eyes before matching Cas’s cheeky smile.  “I’ll help pay for the paint.  After all, this is going to be a joint affair since your name’s also on the deed, Dr. Winchester.”

            Cas gets up and comes around the table to plop himself in Sam’s lap, looping his arms around Sam’s neck.  “See, I knew you would agree.”  He gives Sam a kiss, starting to use his tongue, only for Sam to pull away right as he feels the wet against his lips.  “Think you can butter me up with sex, do you?”

            “I do.”

            “You’re just gonna have to wait on that until we see how much the paint costs.”

            Sam lasts for the grand total on that threat of two minutes before they get lost making out for thirty, Rufus interrupting by nosing at his food bowl.

.  .  .

           

            As it turns out, the paint doesn’t cost them nearly as much as they thought it would and they end up getting the colors they want.  Of course Sam goes through each room with Castiel three times to check and double check that it really is the color he wants in each space.  Cas only changes his mind a couple times, on the guest bedroom across from the master and the foyer, feeling like they should both be the same color instead of different ones.

            It’s the third day of painting, both of them barefoot and wearing ratty clothes in the living room, having decided to work their way from the top down.  Of course it hasn’t all been done in three days, between working hours that don’t quite line up like they have for the last couple weeks and not wanting to disturb the other as they rest.  Gracie’s lying in the doorway, keeping a sleepy watch out as Sam and Cas paint the wall the TV normally sits against the color of Pink Lady apples, a halfway between pink and red that reminds Sam of an orchard.

            “You know, I’m glad we went with a lighter color in here” Sam says as he slowly moves the roller up the wall, his long reach enabling him to go all the way to the ceiling.  Cas is working his way towards him from the other end, having to use a small step ladder to compensate for the half a foot height difference between he and his husband.  Sam turns away to hide his smile every time Cas goes up it, showing off by extending his arm all the way out to move the roller straight up to the molding, earning himself a glare in return.

            “Yes, it looks really good from here.  Or you know, down on the floor too.”  Cas finished up the section he’s working on and moves closer, sneaking a glance at Sam whose gone back to painting and not lording his height over the rest of the world.  Sam looks well, like temptation incarnate like this, an old workout tank top on, the holes in the sides of it too big to be practical for anything other than hanging around the house.  Cas doesn’t really care, as it affords him a first-class view of Sam’s beautiful lats and the side of his chest, nipple peeking out every time he lifts his arm, his body unmarked by tattoos or piercings like Castiel’s, his arm muscles bunching and squeezing with the motion of his roller, hair tied back in a messy ponytail that Cas has had to stop himself twice from pulling on in the last hour.  There’s also the gym shorts that Sam’s definitely not wearing any underwear with, thick hang of his thick cock painfully obvious through the black material…

            “Aw, come on Cas. You’re average height.”  Sam turns his head and throws Cas a lewd wink, lips parted in a lascivious grin.  “Above average cock though, that’s gotta count for something.”  Cas deflects Sam’s attempt at making him feel better with another glare. 

            “And you don’t have to use a step stool to get all the way up to the ceiling, Paul Bunyan.”  Cas dips his roller in the tray before climbing back up, noticing that they really aren’t that far from done with this wall.

            “You never have once complained about me picking you up and carrying you like Paul Bunyan – and wouldn’t that make you Babe the Ox? You know bestiality is a sin and against the law in most parts of the world.”  Sam laughs at his own joke, not caring in the slightest if his husband finds it amusing or not.

            Cas does laugh, only somewhat to Sam’s surprise, wiping sweat from his brow as he does so with the back of his arm. “I’m not gonna start making ox noises when you fuck me, if that’s what you’re implying.” 

            Sam sets down his roller and steps towards his husband, still on his stool.  “Wouldn’t dare ask you to change a thing.”  He settles his big hands on Cas’s hips through his t-shirt, pulling him in for a kiss, glad to take advantage of the fact that they’re on nearly equal footing for once.  It lingers only for a moment before he pulls away, not wanting to get too distracted by the time they’re finished – he doesn’t go far though, resting his forehead against Cas’s.

            “Still think you’re Paul Bunyan.”  He kisses Cas’s nose before he gets a swat to the ass, Sam going back to his roller and shaking his head.  They work in companionable silence for a good while, finishing up the one wall before moving on to the next.  Sam takes his shirt off at some point, the windows open throughout the house to let it air as they paint, both of them feeling the effects of inhaling fumes, slightly loopy and light-headed.  Cas turns to look at Sam’s naked torso every few minutes, licking his lips and trying to remember when exactly he made the marks and bruises that dapple his skin like a purple constellation. Before long though, Sam’s back is turned to him completely, humming to myself as he works.  Cas covers one finger in paint, quietly padding over to Sam’s turned back.

            He almost has his drawing finished before Sam pays attention to him, having been pretending to ignore his so not sneaky husband.  “There isn’t by any chance a piece of wall on my back that we missed, is there?” 

            “…no.”  Cas tries to look casual and fails spectacularly.

            “Then why, my lovely husband, have you painted me?” Sam turns and quirks an eyebrow at Cas, crossing his arms, chest popping in an entirely distracting manner, not to mention his forearms and Sam’s shorts are riding low and Cas can see-

            “Cas!”  Cas jumps, grinning, decidedly ignoring the agitated look in Sam’s eyes.

            “Sorry Sam, but I couldn’t resist such putting my mark on such a beautiful canvas.”

            “I am not a wall Cas, and this stuff itches.”  Sam starts to reach to try and get some it off, only for Cas to reach out his hand and stop him.

            “Can I at least show you what I drew on your back first?”  Cas grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the coffee table, spinning Sam to take a picture.  He presents Sam with his design – a rather crudely drawn heart with an arrow through it, the letters S.W. and C.W. slightly off center from each other, dripping red down the curve of Sam’s spine.

            “An artist AND a doctor – sure lucked out on that didn’t I?”  It is a sweet gesture, even if Sam would have preferred a kiss to Cas putting what isn’t cheap paint on his back. 

            “I should have mentioned at some point before now I considered going to school to be an artist.”  Cas sets his phone down before coming back over to Sam, putting his arms around his waist and looking up at him, his husband a perfectly gorgeous mess.

            Sam gives him a small shrug.  “Think I like you better as a doctor.  Pay’s better anyway.”

            “Now I know you didn’t just marry me for the money” Cas says with mock indignation.

            Sam kisses his way down Cas’s face, from his forehead to his lips.  “Course not.”  This kiss does linger, Cas going up on tiptoe for a better angle.  They hear Gracie trot off, wholly uninterested in painting or being in the room as her keepers whispers sweet nothing to each other.

            Sam breaks away after a moment, holding Cas at arm’s length.  “You know you’re not off the hook for drawing on me.”

            “I never once suspected I was.  What can I do to make it up to you?” 

            “Buy me take out and then a back rub at some point would be nice.”

            “A fair price for letting me draw on you then.”

            “I didn’t let you do anything, just took advantage of my turned back.”  Sam presses his index finger to Cas’s nose before standing back and stretching, his arms and shoulders aching from painting for the last four hours.

            “Tell you what – why don’t you go get comfy on the front porch and I’ll order dinner, sound good?”  Cas gives Sam’s upper arm a kiss as he maneuvers his husband to the front door, Sam going willingly, Gracie following close behind.

            Seated on the front steps with his dog between his legs, Sam looks up at the sky, brilliant purples and oranges streaking across it as the sun sets.  Cas comes out a few minutes later, seating himself behind Sam and rubbing his shoulders, careful of the paint still drying on him.  They eat leaning against each other, feeding pieces of sesame chicken and fried rice to each other with their fingers, licking them clean and tossing half-serious heated gazes at each other, ending up laughing and kissing on the swing as they look up at the stars, and later that night after a slow, warm round of sex Cas traces over the letters still on Sam’s back, Sam sighing contentedly until he falls asleep with his head pillowed over his husband’s heart.

.  .  .

            Castiel wakes up one warm mid-June afternoon to the sound of yard work, along with Rufus snuffling at his ear, ready for Cas to be up.  Throwing the blankets off of him, he sits up and stretches, ligaments cracking with the fullness of a night’s rest. He just finished a three day rotation at the hospital, two successful surgeries in that time, having gone home the night before feeling exhausted but pleasantly so, slipping into bed next to Sam as soon as he’d gotten home.  Given he hears the sound of the lawnmower, Sam must have not had much to work on that day, noting it’s just past two p.m. as he starts to head downstairs, Rufus close at hand and bounding ahead of him as he makes his way to the kitchen, perching on one of the chairs.  Cas’s stomach grumbles loudly, making him head for the pantry, grabbing the bagels (cinnamon raisin flavored.)

            He eats his breakfast in peace, Rufus sitting under the table at his feet, enjoying a cup of coffee (Sam had left the pot on so it would still be warm) and the strawberry cream cheese spread he’d bought last week, reading the newspaper and generally taking advantage of his temporary solace, naked save for his black Calvin Klein briefs, not even his piercings in.  He finishes his bagel, along with a banana before he realizes something – he’s horny as hell.  Of course he’d been too tired to notice it while he was at work but it’s been easily five days since he and Sam last touched beyond a kiss, his body aching for his husband’s touch.  He takes his dishes over to the sink, erection growing and straining against his briefs, making him groan with need.  Sam’s visible out the window, over near the far side of the yard, dragging the mower up and down the edge of the ditch.  Gracie sits not too far away, keeping a watchful eye.  He can’t see Sam that well but all the same he notices the way his t-shirt clings to his back with sweat, left arm muscles bulging as he drags the mower up the incline before moving it back down again.

            Groaning he turns and scoots up on the counter nearest the edge of the sink, sliding his briefs down until they’re hanging off of one leg.  Cas takes his rapidly filling cock in hand, breath catching in his throat slightly as he strokes up, foreskin bunching in between his thumb and forefinger, a small bead of precome smearing as he slowly draws it back, repeating the motion again and God it’s good, his body coming more awake to his own touch, head falling with a thunk against the cabinet behind him.  It’s not that he and Sam don’t masturbate, it’s just that one’s normally horny when the other is and it leads to sex.  Right now though Cas isn’t gonna complain, thinking about Sam as he continues his steady rhythm, toes curling and licking his lips as desire burns and races hot as lightning across the sky through his body, repeating “Sam” over and over again, each time more breathy and desperate than the last.

            “Looks like you’re having fun there.”  Cas picks his head up, only slightly startled because it’s certainly not the first time Sam’s walked in on him jacking off and neither is it the first time that he’s been caught outside their bedroom – Sam understands more than anything that sometimes need wins out over location.  Cas barely misses a beat, continuing to stroke himself as he eyes Sam, looking the perfect vision of a gorgeous wreck, grass stains all over his jeans and his t-shirt soaked through with moisture, lips and cheeks turned bright pink by the sun, not to mention the completely attractive way the breeze has tangled and snarled his long hair.  All in all Sam looks like a fucking wet dream, not breaking eye contact as he goes to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, grinning at Cas as he unscrews the cap and drains it one go, throat working in the most ridiculously sexy way as he drinks, Cas’s attention now completely focused on Sam. 

            Sam sets the bottle aside and wipes his mouth.  “And since you were saying my name, you must he having _a lot_ of fun.”

            Cas just shakes his head, returning Sam’s million watt grin.  “Well looking like that you could be the centerfold of Playgirl.  Without the clothes of course.”

            Sam steps towards his husband, boxing him in with his arms, palms flat against the counter to either side of Cas’s spread legs.  “So you’re saying you want me to….” Sam puts his face closer to Cas’s, Cas breathing in deep the smell of Sam’s body, all sweat and grass and lawnmower exhaust and he’s convinced there’s never been a stronger aphrodisiac in the world, making Cas’s thought turn to much “take my clothes off?”

            Cas shakes his head, hooking his feet behind Sam’s knees and pulling him forward, feeling the heat coming off of him.  “Not at all.”  Cas tilts his head for a kiss, receiving it and more as Sam rubs himself against Cas’s naked body, Cas’s whole body zeroing in on where Sam’s rough jeans are touching his thighs and cock, Cas’s hand still working himself, knuckles brushing over the bulge of his husband’s erection.  Sam moans softly in response, left hand coming up off the counter to unzip himself, fingers careful of the metal teeth as he gets his cock out, head pressing against Cas’s hip as he starts to move in time with Cas, knowing his husband’s movements and technique well enough by now to mimic it perfectly.

            Sam tastes delicious, the coolness of the water still lingering, lips warmed by the mostly cloudless day outside and the exertion of taking care of their lawn, perhaps even with a hint of the apple Sam ate after he came home from work.  Cas plunges his tongue in deep, his other hand going up under the back of Sam’s shirt and touching his sweat covered back, drawing his fingers gently over the top of Sam’s tailbone, the scrape of his nails making Sam’s legs spread a little more, the angle of their kiss not quite so severe now.

            Cas lets out a low groan as he feels Sam grind against him again, denim-clad thigh right up against his cock, rubbing himself against it as they speed up the motions of their hands, kiss deepening even further the closer they get to climax, by this point panting with something akin to abiding need and Cas feels amazing right now, body still heavy with exhaustion but it’s okay, Sam’s there, surrounding him, filling him in spirit, the scent of Cas’s sleep warm body and Sam’s sunshine tanned skin making for a heady aroma that finally sends Cas over the edge first, come splashing up against his belly, Sam’s thigh working  against him still as he does, feeling his wedding ring drag over the corona of his glans as he fucks himself through it, Sam’s own incredibly warm and sticky release coating his hip and thigh a moment later, running off of Cas’s lightly hairy leg and onto the counter, a mess that will have to be cleaned up yes but it doesn’t have to be right now.

            They take a long moment to breathe together, heart rates coming down and the intensity of their kiss backing off as well, devolving to slow, sweet brushes of their lips that make them smile wide as their stubble scrapes against each other.  It’s peaceful, very peaceful, Cas’s temporary hiatus from being able to touch his husband over for the time being.  Sam almost considers bending down to taste them together but he doesn’t has no desire to press it any further than where they are right now.

            Cas finally speaks, and even then it’s a half whisper. “Would you like to come and shower with me?”

            Sam shakes his head.  “Still have the trimming to do yet.  But afterwards, absolutely.  Actually I want a bath with you, if that pleases the doctor.”

            “It pleases the doctor very much.”  Cas pushed against Sam, moving so that he can hop down off the counter, using his discarded underwear to clean himself and the counter up.  “And I can’t let you do all the work by yourself – I’ll go get some clothes on and start pulling up weeds.”

            “You don’t _have_ to put clothes on you know.”  Sam tucks himself back into his jeans, doing this what Cas thinks to be adorable little dance as he adjusts himself to avoid catching on the zipper.  “But then again I’d hate for you to get arrested for public indecency.”

            Cas tosses his underwear in the laundry room on his way up the stairs. “I have never once been decent to go out in public, I simply pretend.”  He throws Sam a wink, leaving Sam shaking his head as he heads back outside, a jaunt in his step that’s due entirely to Cas’s sweet touch.

.  .  .

            Sam thinks he might be a little too hasty to get back to his office after he gets out of court; however he doesn’t feel like it’s that big of a deal, considering the current case he’s working honestly should have been thrown out a week ago, some petty squabble over twenty feet of property between two of the town’s veteran loudmouths, Mrs. Van Nuys and Mr. Conlon – they’ve been both neighbors and enemies for the last thirty years and Sam suspects that he was asked to represent Mr. Conlon simply because they’d grown tired of arguing on their own – Sam hadn’t even bothered to charge his client any more than was absolutely necessary – he wasn’t going to make him spend it if he didn’t have to, not wanting to give the old man something else to gripe about. (He also kept the fact that he was married to a man safely out of their dealings, not worth brining in homophobia.)

            He shuts the door to his office and pulls a bottle of water out of the small refrigerator he’s had since his college days, gratefully drinking and checking his phone.  The first couple messages are his mother, checking up on him and wishing him well, Sam responding back with a smile on his face. There’s one from Dean, reminding him wedding is five months to the day away, checking yet again if Sam has set aside the date.  Yes, yes, of course Sam has, made sure of it the same day a month before hand.  Next is a picture message from Cas – Sam’s used to it by now, Cas always sending him pictures of things around the hospital, the occasional selfie (because I know you smile when you see me smile, Sam) and other pictures that always make Sam’s heart sigh.

            Most of the time anyway.

            He opens the message and once it comes through, he has to put his hand over his mouth to keep from swearing out loud.  Castiel is in his scrubs, white lab coat over them, stethoscope around his neck and Foster Grants on his face, lips quirked up in a smile that invites, one hand holding the phone to what Sam recognizes as the mirror in the men’s room on Cas’s floor, the other hand lifting his scrub top so that Sam has a beautiful view of his husband’s body, the feathers of his wing tattoo curling down one side in such a beautifully elegant way that his eye can’t help but follow, down over the sharp cut of his hipbones, back up to where he can see Cas’s piercings – both through his nipples, having put in his blue set today, the matching also set in the top of his navel – he looks wonderful, Sam’s eye following down to the only hair on Cas’s torso he has to speak off, a light dusting right under his navel, down to where Cas’s hard cock is sticking out over the top of his pulled down scrub pants, swearing he sees precome beaded at the tip.  Sam groans, licking his lips as he rubs himself through his slacks, tapping the picture to save it before scrolling down to read the caption:

            “Surgery in 30 minutes.  Can you help come take the edge off before I go in?”  Sam checks when the message was sent – five minutes before he got back to his office, which leaves him plenty of time to still get over to the hospital.  With that in mind he locks the door to his office, going over to his desk and pulling out the very bottom drawer, retrieving lube and the plug that they use for special occasions (the rare chance they actually get to eat lunch together often leads to conjugal visits in Sam’s office) and he carefully removes his shoes, placed to one side as he also removes his jacket, cock filling even before he manages to get his pants off.  He knows exactly what Cas wants and is more than willing to give it, shivering as he opens up the lube and slathers it in his left hand, three fingers wetted quickly, using his other hand to pull his shirt forward so that the tail doesn’t get wet, reaching behind himself and pressing his slicked up hand to his hole – that touch makes him rock hard, cock hanging towards the top of his desk as he coats himself, up and down quick but not so fast it doesn’t feel good, feeling his wedding ring moving against his skin. 

            He slips in one finger after a moment, gasping as he tests his own tightness and warmth, alternating between wriggling it around and fucking in and out, soon working up to two, crooking them and finding his prostate immediately, nearly two decades of practice (one afternoon after soccer practice his freshman year of high school he’d come home with the determination to find his own g-spot and had never come so hard in life) making perfect, touching and teasing to work himself up, a moan mostly held back through clenched teeth bubbling up from inside him, body already eager and aching for Cas’s touch.  He works himself with two fingers for a few more minutes, sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he applies more lube and gets up to three, curling his fingers in and God it’s good, making himself nice and ready, biting his bottom lip as he stretches himself as much as he dares, hands shaking as he reaches for the plug.  It’s shiny black and has a gold C stamped on the bottom, Sam running his thumb over its curve before he takes a deep breath and slides it into himself.  It fits perfectly, making sure it’s good and secure before he pulls his boxer briefs and pants back on, looking the perfect model of cool and collected as he scoops up his briefcase and starts to leave.

            Benny’s already gone home for the day, having not had to be in court like Sam, leaving him to lock up, making sure to deposit his secretary’s birthday card on her desk (along with a fifty dollar gift card to Outback) on his way out, the vents of his jacket blowing out as the evening breeze blows around him.  Every bump in the road makes the plug nudge his prostate, along with the vibration from the radio that sets his nerves on a pleasant edge, arriving at the hospital in record time, fifteen minutes before Castiel has to go in.

            He almost considers taking the stairs but thinks better of it, opting for the elevator, hands crossed in front of him in an attempt to hide the erection he’s been sporting for almost twenty minutes, doing his best to walk normal as he approaches the nurse’s desk, Kali waving him on through.

            Castiel is just around the corner, talking with Dr. Brodie (Cas’s most trusted anesthesiologist) and lighting up when he sees Sam, the same outfit on he had in the picture and Sam has to stop himself from getting too excited right there and then, waiting until Dr. Brodie bids them farewell for the time being before he reaches out for Cas and draws him in for a chaste kiss, whispering as he pulls away from his husband.

            “Hope I’m not too late – had to take some time to prep. “  Sam’s voice is already pitched a little higher than normal, courtesy of the thick plug in his ass.

            “Not to worry babe.  You’re just in time.”  Doing a cursory look around to make sure no one’s paying attention he takes Sam by the hand, leading him down the hallway a little bit to a windowless door, sliding his identity badge in the slot, the door unlocking and then just as smooth as can be swings it open and ushers Sam inside, closing it behind him just as gently.

            He’s on Sam in an instant, fumbling for the light switch as he pulls his husband forward by his tie, the supply closet lit up as the fluorescent overhead buzzes to life, backing Sam up against a rack of catheter tubes, their kiss fierce and biting.  Sam moans when he feels Cas thumb at his nipples though his dress shirt, Sam’s hands already disappearing past the waistband of Cas’s scrub pants, left hand fast on Cas’s hip and drawing him to his body and the other squeezing Cas’s cock, just as hard as his and a moment later Sam’s getting to his knees, pulling down Cas’s pants and taking him in his mouth.

            Cas’s voice is a raspy whisper as his head thunks against shelf behind him.  “I do have to be in surgery soon you know.”

            Sam pulls off, raising up Cas’s top and dappling kisses across his flat stomach, stopping to swirl his tongue in Cas’s navel.  “I know.  Just had to taste you for a minute babe.”  Sam gives Cas another minute of just absolutely mind-blowing head, getting back to his feet and dropping his pants, Cas’s hands on his shoulders as he turns him, kissing the back of Sam’s neck as soon as he’s in position.  Reaching into his lab coat pocket he draws out two packets of medical lubricant, squirting them onto his cock as he bites and sucks on Sam’s left ear.

            “Remember the last time we did this Sam?  Went into surgery with my ass full of your come. Fucking loved that baby.”  Cas reaches down and gets his fingers on the plug, slowly easing it out, accompanying it a moan from Sam’s mouth.

            “No such pleasure today Cas, just have to be satisfied with knowing you filled me up.”  Sam turns his head and is wearing a broad grin, Cas rubbing the head of his cock teasingly over his hole before he eases in, Sam still tight as he pushes in all the way, bodies flush with each other in that moment of stillness before Cas’s hips start to move.

            “Trust me Sam, the pleasure is all mine.”  He takes Sam’s lips in another kiss, both of them doing a game job of staying quiet, Sam’s hand braced against the wall and the other on his dick, working himself asynchronous to Cas’s hips.  It’s quick and dirty, feeling his jacket and shirt bunched up where Cas has his right hand gripping him tight right between the shoulders, the other around Sam’s waist, fingers digging the skin of Sam’s hip, wedding ring digging into his skin.  It feels white hot to Sam, scorching him like a brand and later he’ll find a vague imprint of it alongside those of his husband’s fingers.

            Sam moans as he feels his orgasm start to well up from his toes, Cas’s dick angled perfectly to hit his sweet spot every time, Sam’s fingers sticky with the precome that’s leaking out of him at a fast rate.  “’M close babe.”

            Cas gives him a few more thrusts before he bites down on the material of Sam’s jacket, coming hard and long as he feels Sam clench around him, hearing the splatter of Sam’s come against the shelf and wall in front of him, thankfully empty of any supplies.  He wants so badly to slump to the ground with Sam, bask in the aftershocks of sex but he can’t, not when he hears “Dr. Winchester to surgery” and he’s pulling out of Sam, giving him as much of a lingering, warm kiss as he can and pointedly not looking down at the mess he’s made of Sam’s lower body.

            “I have to go Sam.  I love you so, so much.”  He spins Sam around for one more kiss, just has to get a taste of that contented smile on his husband’s lips.

            “Go save another life babe, I’ll be home when you get there.  I love you.”  He holds onto Cas as long as he can, covering himself as Cas opens the door, smiling up at the ceiling for a long moment before he starts to clean himself up, walking out of the hospital tall and proud and with not a care in the world.

.  .  .

            “Something wrong Castiel?”  Kali’s tying up the back of Cas’s surgery gown, noticing the tense set of his shoulders.  “Sam not able to take the edge off again?”

            Cas laughs, once.  “I thought we were quiet the last time.  Guess I’ll have to tell him to keep it down.”  Cas makes sure his gloves are on tight, light blue anti-bacterial affairs that fit like a condom that’s a size too small.  “But yes, I feel… uneasy.”

            Kali moves so that she can face Cas directly, handing him his glasses.  “The great Dr. Winchester nervous before surgery?  I’ll have to check outside before we start to make sure the sky isn’t falling in.”  Kali tries for a smile, only to get Cas’s mouth downturned.

            “I’ve never done a quintuple bypass before.  Hell I’ve never even done a triple.  Kali, for the first time in my time as a surgeon I’m nervous as hell and don’t know what to do about it.”  Cas swallows thickly, sweating under his surgical cap.

            Kali places her hands on Cas’s shoulders, gripping them in a conveyance of confidence. “Cas, listen.  You have done far harder work than this a lot more times.  You’ve got this.  I know it’s a risk due to his age but you’ve got this, you hear me?”

            Castiel nods, finally returning Kali’s smile, tying on his mask and walking into the operating theatre.

.  .  .

            It’s sticky hot in Red Rock that day and it continues on into the evening, Sam leaving the office with his sleeves rolled up and his jacket thrown over his shoulder.  He even ties his hair back to get it off his neck as soon as he has the chance, cooling down instantly and cranking up the AC as high as it will go in his car.  Not even Gracie’s terribly willing to walk far when he gets home, doing her business before pulling back towards the coolness of the house. Sam’s only too glad to peel out of his sticky suit, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator and running a cool bath for himself, thoroughly enjoying the quiet, sipping his Yuengling and reading the biography of George Washington he’d bought on his Kindle before making dinner, staying in until long after the sun had gone down.

            He’s sitting on the couch naked save for his favorite gym shorts, eating pan fried tilapia and watching Jeopardy when Cas walks in the front door, Sam setting his plate on the coffee table, intent on greeting his husband with a kiss but instead he finds Cas just inside the doorway, one hand braced against the wall next to him as if he’s trying to keep himself from falling down, head hanging low and his shoulders drooping in a way that Sam’s not seen over the course of their entire relationship.

            Castiel Winchester looks… _defeated._

            Sam approaches with the utmost care, wary of Cas because it’s just so odd to see this, not sure exactly how to ask him what’s wrong.

            Castiel solves the issue for him by speaking first, voice so quiet that Sam doesn’t catch the first couple words.  “Can you pour me a drink, please?”

            Sam nods, casting another glance backwards as he goes to the bar in his study, pouring Cas a whiskey, bringing it back to where Cas hasn’t moved in the foyer.  Cas studies the amber liquid, finally tilting his head up to where Sam can get a better look at him.  His eyes are brimming with tears, jaw working and shaking like he’s trying to contain some inner torment, Sam stepping forward and touching his face, fingers smooth against his five o’clock shadow.  Cas finally brings the whiskey to his lips, hand more than a little shaky as he drinks, spilling a few drops down his top.  He doesn’t seem to notice, draining the glass in one go before handing it back to Sam, silent as he heads up the stairs, hand behind him bidding Sam to not follow.

            Sam’s scared right now, doesn’t exactly know what’s going on save for he knows that his husband is hurting right now.  It hurts him just as much, not knowing what he can do to help.  Cas is upstairs for quite some time, Sam hearing him run the shower as he heats dinner back up, making sure Cas’s plate is full and that his place at the table is set.  After he hears the water cut off there’s nothing but silence and that worries Sam even more, only for Cas to appear right as Sam’s about to go up and check on him.

            Cas is wearing his pajama pants and one of Sam’s flannel shirts, draped entirely too large on his smaller frame, over which is Sam’s tweed jacket, the one with elbow patches.  Sam guesses that the silence after his shower was Cas shaving, as his cheeks bear not a trace of stubble.  Sam guesses it had to do with concentrating on something other than whatever it is eating at his husband – which by this point Sam wants to know so that he can do _something_ to ease Cas’s pain.

            Sam finally decides to break this entirely too loud silence that’s settled over them.  “Made you some dinner babe.” 

            Cas gives him the tiniest of smiles and kisses his cheek, voice barely a murmur as he says “thank you Sam.”  He takes his seat at the table, Gracie trotting over and laying her head on his knee, snuffling at his hand, burying her face under the edge of where Sam’s shirt hangs in his lap.  Cas eats in silence, Sam sitting across and pointedly not trying to make this awkward, simply making an effort to be a warm presence in the room should Cas require it. 

Sam’s looking down at the cup of coffee he’s nursing and sorting through his thoughts when Cas speaks, making Sam jump a little.  “I lost one today.”

Sam raises his head, trying to keep the surprise and disbelief contained.  “Cas I’m so-“

“He was the first one.  Almost five – five hundred successful surgeries and I… I lost one today Sam.  He died right as we were closing up just… his heart rate dropped suddenly and then thirty seconds later he was gone.  Five thirteen p.m Sam.  That’s when I called it.”  Cas has tears leaking freely from the corners of his eyes now, finally making eye contact with Sam and when he does, Sam’s heart _breaks._

He’s around the table immediately, pulling Cas up out his chair right before Cas’s resolve snaps and he’s sobbing, face planted in Sam’s bare chest, his body suddenly feeling very small in Sam’s arms, as if the energy and confidence that his husband normally makes his way through life with has been sapped with the patient he lost.  Sam’s at a loss too – Castiel isn’t normally a person who loses but he has and it feels like it’s going to crush him.

Sam doesn’t speak, simply buries his face in Cas’s hair and holds him close, hand gently rubbing up and down his side, his own tears shed silently as his husband lets out his misery, the tears hot on Sam’s chest, managing to move them to Sam’s study across the hallway, pulling Cas into his lap and rocking him gently until Cas is so exhausted he falls asleep, Sam wiping at his cheeks with the backs of his fingers, kissing his forehead and whispering “I’m sorry baby” into his neck, eventually carrying him up to bed and making sure Cas stays tucked up against his side the whole night.

Castiel wakes up to an empty bed the next morning, Sam having already gone to work, a note on his pillow written in Sam’s elegant, flowing hand “If you need anything – **anything** – please call me.  I love you.”  Cas clutches the note to his chest and nearly feels the tears start again but he holds them back.  He’s meeting with the family today at noon, just to make sure that they’re going to be okay.  He puts on his gray suit, feeling the need for formality over his scrubs is necessary.  What occupies his thoughts during his getting himself ready is the fact that his patient’s family – Mr. Theodore “Teddy” Roslin, a longtime resident of Red Rock and founder of Roslin’s Repairs – had known the risks sending him into surgery.  Cas wonders if he should have gone with his gut feeling and advised against operating.  The man had been eighty six and had suffered two heart attacks already, and stubborn as hell to boot.  Castiel admired his courage deeply but all the same it hadn’t felt right.  He can’t help but smile a little because he’s sure Mr. Roslin would have kept going out of spite alone.

The family is gathered in the east waiting room of the heart floor when he arrives, looking as melancholy as Cas had when he’d left the hospital the night before.  They sit and talk for a long while, Mr. Roslin’s son explaining to him that they knew his father was at risk for such a major operation and that they weren’t going to press any sort of legal charges against Castiel.  Cas had attended to more than one member of the Roslin family over time and they were aware of the extreme care and pride that Cas put into his patient’s well-being.  Castiel is grateful but even after they’ve left he honestly doesn’t feel any better, having explained to them as well as he can what had happened purely for the sake of looking at what had happened one more time, trying to analyze what went wrong, finally realizing that the human body simply gives up sometime, in spite of whatever care Castiel had – still has – to give.

He’s still in the waiting room, hand over his mouth and thinking, slumped down in one of the chairs when Sam finds him, the wear of a long day in court on his face.  He comes over and sits down next to his husband, placing a hand on his forearm and gripping it.

“The first time I lost a case it nearly ended me Cas.  Thought for sure I had my defense rock solid and every possibility accounted for.  The prosecution wiped the floor with me within fifteen minutes and that was it, the case closed and I had to drag myself home that day, sure that I was done for.”

Cas turns and looks at Sam, shaking his head with a wry chuckle.  “If this is your version of helping me get through this, it kind of sucks.”

“Trust me, I know how much or how little value words and well-meant phrases hold Castiel.  But you can’t just let it drag you down.  And… Cas you’re not God, no more than I am the attorney general or whomever else you want to compare it to.  We’re only human and it sucks sometimes but it’s… it’s a part of the job.  I know you care about your patients, I really, really do but they’re just as human as you are.  I won’t tell you to not be angry, embittered, or sad over this because I get it, I do.  Defeat isn’t an easy pill to swallow but Cas you’re gonna keep going, keep healing people and one loss isn’t going to change that.”  Sam gets down in front of Cas on his knees and takes his hands, looking up into those gorgeous blue eyes he adores so much.  “I have never not once lost faith in you or your abilities Cas and I can only hope and pray you don’t either.  I believe in you so, so much and this doesn’t or ever will change that.” He leans up for a kiss, cupping Cas’s face in his hands, lips gentle as he waits for Cas to kiss back, only having to wait for a moment before his husband’s mouth turns pliant against his, kissing back with fragile tenderness, pulling away after a moment and carding his fingers through Sam’s hair.  “You make one hell of a lawyer Sam.”

“Only because you say so.  And you don’t have to be over this today, tomorrow, or even next month but I know you’re gonna be just fine.  And if you need to stay here and think, I’ll leave you to it.  You know where I’ll be.”  Sam makes sure his tone offers Cas as much room as possible, not wanting to pressure him in any way.

Cas stands, taking Sam with him, keeping a hold of Sam’s hands and squeezing them as soon as they get to their feet.  “I think that maybe a burger and milkshake with my favorite guy at Val’s would help right about now.”  Cas offers him a smile, noticing the way the late afternoon sunbeams coming in through the window give Sam’s hair an auburn tinge that makes him practically glow.

“Only if my date agrees to let me pay.”  Sam leans forward and kisses Castiel’s forehead before pulling him into a hug, cheek resting against Sam’s shoulder as he whispers “thank you Sam.”

“I’m always here for you Cas, and you know it.”

They stand in each other’s embrace for a little while longer, not quite yet willing to go of each other.

.  .  .

The rest of the Maryland summer is scorchingly hot, save for in the very early mornings when Sam goes on his run and even then he always comes back sweating profusely, Cas every time making a point to hold his nose and make disgusted noises in an over-exaggerated manner when Sam returns to the house, only for Sam to shoot him a glare that makes Cas’s spine tingle and more often than not they end up pressed against each other, Castiel licking at the salt on his husband’s neck as they grind, hands around each other’s cocks and coming away far stickier than when they had started.  It’s more than a little gross but also completely worth it, given the sated look on each other’s faces.

July gives way to August, time seeming to stand still in Red Rock as the temperature breaks record highs every day.  Not a soul complains in town hall when Sam wears a polo and khakis to court for his latest case, nor does Cas bother with his lab coat around the hospital.  Sam when he’s around the office keeps his hair up and back, keeping it off his neck, careful to not smudge the make-up on his neck that conceals the hickies that dapple his skin.  The heat’s made Castiel insatiably horny, every night that they have some time together getting their hands on each other in some way, even if it’s not full on sex.  Sam can’t say he’s complaining, even if it does take a while for the marks to fade.

It’s an extremely sticky Friday night, both of them lying together in bed, not a cover or stitch of clothing on them. For once, it’s entirely too hot to even contemplate touching each other, the AC having broken earlier that evening. Of course everyone else’s in the area has too so it’ll be a few days until theirs gets fixed.  In the meantime however, they suffer.  It’s also too hot to sleep, well past midnight and both of them are just as wide awake as they had been two hours ago when they’d laid down to go to bed.

“Do you suppose this is what the surface of the sun feels like?”  Cas is looking up at the ceiling, watching the moonlight travel across the tiles and bathe the room in a silvery hue.  “Or are we still in Maryland.”

Sam laughs for a moment, reaching for Cas’s hand where it lays in between their naked bodies.  “I don’t recall any sort of space travel today so I’d say Maryland.  And besides, there’s no moisture on the Sun. This is more like Venus, all that cloying atmosphere to keep the heat in and whatnot.  At least we’re not breathing sulfur, that’s gotta be some sort of consolation.”

Cas shifts onto his side, looking down at Sam’s moonlit body.  “No, a consolation is getting to look at your naked form for most of the evening.  This heat is just a pain in the ass.” 

Sam smiles at him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.  “At least we’re awake together, that’s gotta be something.”

“I guess.”  Cas is silent for a few minutes, making circles with his index finger on Sam’s hip.  “You want to know what I thought about earlier today?”

“What’s that?”

“Casablanca.  I’ve never seen it before, but I know the song – what’s it called?”

Sam hums a bit of the melody before he sings the title “as time goes by.”

“That’s it. One of my patients was singing it when I went in to check up on her post surgery.  Said she always sang it when she was feeling good.”  Cas props his head up under his hand, now smoothing Sam’s hair away from his forehead.

“You know the all night theatre down the road is playing it right now.  Bet there’s another showing starting soon if you want to go.” Sam kisses Cas’s wrist as it bends back towards him when Cas tucks his hair behind his ear.

“I think I do.  It’s bound to be cooler in there than it is here anyway.”  Cas gets up off the bed, walking towards his discarded pajama pants, pulling them up sans underwear and earning himself a low whistle from Sam.

“Going commando in public?  You’re a kinky little angel, aren’t you?”  Sam grins, looking for his own and pulling them up, tossing Cas his t-shirt where they had landed together earlier.

“It’s too hot for underwear anyway.  Makes it easier to get up to mischief anyway.”

“We’re going to watch a movie, not neck like teenagers in the dark.”  Sam can’t say he’s unopposed to the idea but one of the town’s lawyers getting arrested for public indecency doesn’t sound like the most appealing idea in the world.

“You don’t complain when we fuck in the supply closet.”  Cas pulls on his sneakers, forgoing socks as well.

“Yeah but there’s a closed door there. This is a lot more open.”  Sam grabs his keys from his dresser and heads out the door, Gracie following them downstairs and whining when they leave, Sam rubbing her head and telling her they’ll be back soon.

It is a little bit cooler outside, and it’s clear overhead as well, the stars and their constellations a magnificent backdrop for their walk.  There’s isn’t a lot of light pollution to take away from the show, something Castiel has always been grateful for.  He and Sam have spent more than one night on their roof sipping wine and looking up at the stars, not saying a word and listening to nothing but the sound of each other’s breathing. 

“It’s actually kind of nice out, isn’t it?”  Sam takes Cas’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the backs of his knuckles

“It is.  If it’s nice tomorrow night would you like to maybe…”  Cas is afraid to ask, not wanting to sound too terribly sappy.

“Maybe what Cas?”

“Sit on the roof with me.”  Cas asks quietly, turning away his head as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Sam leans over and kisses his the side of his head, a gentle “of course” breathed into Cas’s ear.

The walk to the theatre doesn’t take very long, only a couple blocks away.  It only has four screens but is impeccably well appointed, reminding Sam of one of the Golden Age cinemas, appropriate to the content it shows – Sam can’t recall ever watching a film made before 1980 here. They show up just in time for the 2:15 showing of Casablanca, situating themselves in the back row, not another soul in the theatre with them. 

“Hard to believe you’ve never seen it before Cas.”  Sam puts his arms around Cas’s shoulders, the cinema blessedly cool enough to where they can bear to touch each other.

“Just one of those movies I never got around to seeing.  But I couldn’t have picked a better date for my first time.”  Cas kisses Sam’s cheek, snuggling up as close as the space between the seats will allow.

Cas watches through half-hooded eyes, the solid, warm presence of his husband’s body making him feel sleepy and content, one hand resting on Sam’s knee and the other around his waist, his fingers curled around Sam’s left hipbone.  Three quarter of the way through, however, he remembers that Sam’s not wearing any underwear, subtly moving his hand a couple inches up Sam’s leg, kissing his neck in the process.

“You know, this is the best part of the film” is the only response he gets from Sam, feeling his legs spread in invitation.

“And it’s bound to be on AMC at some point in the near future.  I’ll catch it then.”  Cas’s hand moves up where Sam’s leg connects to his body, sliding down slowly and lighting up a trail of heat in its path until he’s cupping Sam’s balls through the thin flannel, gently rolling and squeezing them as he feels his husband’s cock harden against his wrist.

“Remember what I said about no mischief earlier?”  Sam turns his head and gives Cas a quick, searching kiss.

“Mmm.”

“I was lying.”  Sam’s hand moves to the fly of Cas’s pants, fingers slipping the button out of its hole as he gets his hand inside, fingers curling around his husband’s already half-hard cock, drawing him out of the fly and stroking him, Cas moaning softly into his mouth when Sam pulls at his foreskin, precome smeared around the head when he strokes back down, Cas working Sam out of his pants as well.

It’s unhurried, the way they touch each other.  This isn’t a race to see who can come first, simply deep, abiding intimacy.  Sam’s quiet, concentrating on pleasuring Castiel, up and twisting slightly at the top, just as Cas likes, Cas’s hand tight and firm, even motions that make Sam leak all over his fingers, wedding ring rubbing against his frenulum and making his breath catch in his throat.

“You like that Sam?”  Cas does it some more, feeling Sam thicken even further, knowing he’s close and speeding up.

“’M so fucking close babe, keep doing that.”  Sam’s breath is hot against his lips, stroking Cas faster in return, hearts pounding loudly in their ears and right as Ingrid Bergman’s plane takes off they come all over each other’s hands, thick, heavy globs that make their skin sticky.  They don’t have any napkins or anything to clean each other up with, softening dicks left out as they lick the mess from each other’s fingers, swapping it back and forth, sweet tasting from all the fruit they’ve been eating lately to keep it from going bad.  It’s a glorious mess but they don’t care, smiling and happy and sated by the time they finish, both of them feeling sleepy and pliant.

They walk out of the theatre eventually, holding hands and bumping against each other as they head back to their house, the very first ray of dawn starting to streak across the sky as they fall into bed wrapped in each other’s arms.

.  .  .

“I didn’t even know you knew how to make pie” Cas says as he walks into the kitchen, having finished taking Gracie out.

“Well I’m not exactly a pie eater and neither are you so it’s not exactly something I do too often.  But, Dean wants a chocolate pie for his wedding and he asked me to make it and I know that it’s just better too indulge him.” Sam moves across the kitchen, having prepared his space to roll the dough.

“And you make it from scratch too.  You get sexier every day Sam, I like that about you.”  Cas kisses the back of Sam’s neck as he passes by, heading towards the living room.

“You can help, you know.”

“How?”

“Moral support.  That and you’re pretty to look at.”  Sam winks at him, grinning before he turns back to his open bag of flower and sprinkles it across the wax paper.  “That and if you stay I’m sure we can find a use for the whip cream that’s gonna be left over when I’m finished with this.

Cas pauses, turning back to the kitchen and installing himself against the counter as he watches Sam work.  “You know how to persuade a man, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t be a good lawyer if I didn’t, now would I?”

Cas nods, watching Sam’s back and shoulder muscles work as he starts to roll out the dough.  “Maybe I’ll keep you in here just to watch you bake.  Makes all the muscles in your back move nicely.”

Sam turns around, brandishing the rolling pin. “No funny business until this pie’s in the oven and I mean that.  It has to be as fresh as possible and Dean’s already bitched and moaned about the fact it’s gonna be three days before he gets to eat it.”

Cas puts up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  “Alright, alright.  But I’m gonna call you chef until I get my hands on you again.”

Sam just shakes his head and continues to roll dough.

.  .  .

Dean lives in Roanoke, Virginia, putting him about five hours southwest of Red Rock.  They drive down, enjoying the beautiful late autumn leaves along the way, hand in hand the whole time.  They’re about half an hour away when Cas wakes up from where he’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat, rubbing his eyes and looking out the windshield as Roanoke’s city limits go past them.

“Here already?”  Cas sits up a little more, adjusting his glasses in the process.

“Yes we are.  Been a while since I’ve been this far south. Still kind of surreal too.”

“How come?”

“It’s Dean, Cas.  Getting married isn’t exactly something I ever saw him doing.”  Sam turns off in the direction of Dean’s suburb, double checking his directions.  “He’s almost forty, too.  Not exactly the age most people have their first marriages at.”

Cas gives Sam a shrug and a smile.  “Well as his only brother you should be happy he’s finally settling down.  And you know Lisa’s a great fit for him too.”

“Not bad for someone who was originally just a booty call, huh?”

“No, not at all.”  Cas is silent for a few moments before he speaks again.  “I’m glad we weren’t that Sam. Not just two ships that passed in the night once upon a time.”

Sam reaches for Cas’s hand and squeezes tight.  “Me too Cas, and I mean that.”  Cas leans over and kisses Sam’s cheek, settling against his arm until they pull up to Dean’s apartment complex, hand in hand as they ring the buzzer and make their way up the stairs when they hear Dean’s invitation to let them in.

.  .  .

Dean’s bachelor party is a wild affair, Sam playing the designated driver and bankrolling their night out, him, Dean, their childhood friend Inias and his brother Ezekiel, the four of them taking Dean out for burgers and beers, Dean enjoying fully his “last night of freedom” and they end up at a strip club, Sam paying for lap dances all around (and turning down more than a few himself, in spite of every girl’s in the place best efforts) and spending his time when he has the chance texting sweet things back and forth with his husband, safely ensconced at the hotel away from what Sam had described as “his brother’s most ambitious night of indulgence since he graduated high school.”  Sam is happy for him though because he knows Dean’s ready, wants at least some part of what Sam has with Cas.

The rehearsal dinner goes well enough, both Dean and Lisa smiling goofy at each other (and both more than a touch hung over from their respective nights of partying) but they’re happy and it makes Sam’s heart fill with joy, he and Cas watching them from their seat at the table as they smile and kiss each other when the “official” part of the evening is over.  Castiel grips Sam’s hand on top of the table, the same warmth in his heart as well.

The wedding itself is a grand affair, with photos of the groomsmen and bridesmaids taken on Lisa’s parents estate, the old Southern style mansion making for a beautiful backdrop with the wedding itself taking place in the backyard under a giant tent, Lisa looking absolutely radiant as she walks down the aisle towards the impromptu altar, Sam smiling when he looks out of the corner of his eye and sees tears streaming down Dean’s face.  Cas grips Sam’s hand for a moment then, knowing what Sam’s thinking.  It’s a beautiful ceremony, Sam and Cas watching from their seats as Dean and Lisa exchange surprisingly poetic vows, Dean’s eyes lighting up with infectious glee when Lisa slides that ring onto his finger and that’s when Sam finally breaks, seeing his brother so happy.

He and Castiel finally have a chance to speak at the reception, hanging on the edge of the crowd after the toasts end and the dancing begins.

“Did you see his face Cas, when she put the ring on him?”  Sam takes another sip of his water, watching Dean and Lisa dance to Van Halen.  The one thing they’ve always had in common was their love for 80s metal, that being the first thing that had attracted Dean to her.

“Beautiful, wasn’t it?”  Cas watches them too, putting his arm around Sam’s waist and hooking his thumb in the waistband of Sam’s tuxedo pants.  Sam stands a little closer, kissing the top of Cas’s head. 

“It was, and to see Dean that happy it… it made me feel better.  They’re gonna take care of each other, I don’t doubt that.” 

“Well they dated on and off for almost a decade Sam, did you really have any doubts?”  Cas grabs a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and takes a sip, not minding that it’s not exactly chilled.

“No, I don’t think so.  Helps that Ben likes him too, a lot.  I’ve watched them play video games together – I suspect Ben’s learned quite a few of Dean’s more creative swears in the process too.”  Sam smiles, spotting Ben across the tent chatting with one of Lisa’s friend’s kids.

“They make a good family and I think they know it.”  Cas sets down his glass on a nearby table and puts his arms around Sam’s neck.  “But I could never be jealous of what they have because everything I want is right here in front of me.”  Sam smiles into the kiss Cas gives him, tasting of champagne and cake, his lips parting when Sam’s tongue licks along the seam.  They lose track of time for a few minutes, pulling away when Dean finds them and ropes them into a few more pictures.

“Would you like to dance, Dr. Winchester?” Sam asks when they hear “As Time Goes By” come on, being the one ballad that Dean had asked to be played.

“I would be honored, Your Eminence.”  Sam rolls his eyes and beams as he pulls Cas out onto the dance floor, both of them slightly disheveled but Cas thinks Sam looks beautiful, his hair slightly messy and the blush of alcohol on his cheeks.  Sam’s humming the words into Cas’s hair when he hears his husband’s voice vibrate against his chest.

“May I tell you something Sam?”

Sam keeps his eyes closed and his face buried in Cas’s hair as he listens.  “Of course babe, anything.”

“When Dean looked at Lisa like that, coming down the aisle… I couldn’t help be glad.  Because that’s how I feel every morning when I wake up next to you.  Every night when I come home to you making dinner, when you come back from your run or God, just sitting and watching the stars with you.”  Cas kisses his way up to Sam’s ear and drops his voice to a whisper. “You’re the moonlight on my back at night and the sunbeams in my hands during the day, Sam.  And I feel that every second of every day because I love you so, so much.  And I don’t want to ever give you reason to not believe it.”  Cas’s eyes have tears in them when he looks up at Sam, tracing his thumb along the curve of his husband’s jaw and kissing him, feeling Sam’s lip tremble against his as Sam breathes “I love you,” intended for only Cas and in spite of the wedding, the people, everything that happened that day, Sam and Castiel go back to their hotel feeling like the luckiest two men in the world, chasing the moonbeams across each other’s bodies that night and the sunbeams in their hands when they come home two days later.

And for them, it’s all they will ever need.


End file.
